Floating WeedsSecrets we keep are like weeds; once the seed is planted, we may try to stomp them out or cover them with dirt to conceal them, but they continue to thrive all the same, and strangle the life out of the more vibrant flowers that grow in our garden. Floating Weeds is the story of a troupe of itinerant actors who come to a small town by the sea to give their theater performances, and are led by Komajuro (Ganjirō Nakamura). Komajuro has also come to visit a former mistress, Oyoshi (Haruko Sugimura), and Kiyoshi (Hiroshi Kawaguchi), his illegitimate son, whose true parentage has been kept from the young man.
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Floating Weeds is a parable about honesty and hypocrisy, about how lies--no matter the intention--can only hurt others because lies, by their nature, preclude trust. As if to underscore how lying is a deeply rooted part of Komajuro's character, he is an actor who adopts false personalities for a profession. Ironically, Kiyoshi observes that Komajuro is also not a very good actor, following one of his performances which he considered overdone. It is clear that Komajuro has a lot to learn about people, even at his age, and frequently retreats when faced when difficult decisions. His visit to Oyoshi is to spend time with her, but mostly Kiyoshi; the two share an obvious paternal bond. He takes Kiyoshi fishing and plays chess with him on a rainy day. He is proud to see his son developed into a smart-looking, handsome young man, but more thrilled to hear that he plans to go to college, which he sees as the opportunity to keep him from falling into a lifestyle like his as an actor--one which Komajuro looks upon with disdain, even as one himself. Oyoshi does not prod Komajuro to reveal the truth to Kiyoshi, but insinuates that he should know. Komajuro frequently deflects the concerns she has--as he does with others--by telling her to "forget it", running from the realities of his fatherhood, scared of facing the thought of being seen as inadequate by his son. In Komajuro's troupe, his "leading lady" is his current mistress, a somewhat younger woman named Sumiko (Machiko Kyō), who immediately suspects Komajuro of keeping something from her after he returns from his visit to Oyoshi and Kiyoshi--largely because Komajuro is such a bad liar, but also because they are, in fact, closer than he would like to admit. Her jealousy prompts her to investigate his whereabouts, discovering his secret meetings with Oyoshi. A great moment follows when she is on the verge of exploding, wanting to throw his deceit back in his face, her anger like a coming storm, followed by an actual torrent of rain. Sumiko confronts and embarrasses Komajuro at Oyoshi's home and restaurant, an episode which begins to reveal Komajuro's violently angry side. He drags her out of the house and the two engage in a bitter shouting match with one another on opposite sides of the street. They are under awnings, and the downpour of rain makes them appear a bit like wild animals behind bars cursing one another from their mutual cages, trapped in their bitterness and scorn, the pain of their trust betrayed.
In their bitter argument, Komajuro reveals that Sumiko was a former prostitute, one which he "made" into an actress. To spite her lover and employer, Sumiko convinces her fellow actress, the lovely Kayo (Ayako Wakao), to seduce Kiyoshi; she makes this proposition by offering Kayo money in exchange for the service. In essence, Sumiko's attempt to spite Komajuro through Kiyoshi also puts Kayo along the same path as she was on in her youth, effectively making Kayo a kind of "prostitute". Sumiko wants Komajuro to appreciate the hypocrisy of his degradation of her character--his claims that she isn't a good enough quality of person compared to his son--because she is an actress. Sumiko is no villain, but her pain provokes her to misjudge the way she wants to teach this lesson to the man she loves--one who is too stubborn to listen, and when confronted and embarrassed, becomes violent, striking others out of frustration, unable to communicate his emotions honestly. The surprise comes when not only is Kayo highly effective in seducing the altogether awkward Kiyoshi, but that they fall in love with one another, star-crossed lovers who are forced to meet in secret. And just as Kayo has become a pupil of Sumiko's in a way, Komajuro later observes upon their elopement that Kiyoshi, like him, is a "fast operator", and that they share a good deal in common. When Kiyoshi first goes to see Kayo, he lies to Oyoshi, claiming he has to work late. Prior to this, there is no suggestion that Kiyoshi may have ever lied to his mother before. On the surface, he does so because he believes he would be "protecting her" from knowledge which might pain her, but subconsciously, he is influenced by his father and the roots of deception that have subtly taken hold. The idea of parents molding children into being the kind of people they are is a theme of Floating Weeds, where even though different generations operate among the struggling acting troupe, the behaviors of the preceding generation are mirrored at least in part by their inheritors. Oyoshi appears to be one of the more level-headed characters in the film, but even she is complicit with Komajuro's decision to keep the truth from Kiyoshi, convinced by him that it is to protect her son, but both know full well it is to keep things placid and containable, even if they conceal the truth from themselves.
The title, Floating Weeds, refers not only to the undesirable elements in a garden--like the lovely garden of flowers Oyoshi keeps--but nomads, drifting along without a home or commitments. The actors in the troupe spend all their free time either drinking sake or wishing they had a drink, complaining about how hungry they are on a beach. They may be passionate about the art of acting, but for the trio of derelict performers who distribute fliers and flirt with girls, it's more likely that they are looking for a way to avoid doing "real work". This isn't that far from the case for the old ham, Komajuro, who for all his experience is still not very skilled at his craft. It is ironic, however, that while Komajuro may not be a great actor, Ganjirō Nakamura delivers a phenomenal and nuanced performance of the travelling actor who is running out of road, an equivalent to Willy Loman from "Death of a Salesman". Similarly, the other performers in Floating Weeds are all exceptional, and we connect with them on a very personal level, largely due to the direction of Yasujirō Ozu. Ozu, well known for his contemplative "pillow shots" (best represented by Oyoshi's flowers in Floating Weeds), keeps the camera often at an intimate, eye-to-eye level with his characters, who are framed when they speak as though they were speaking to the audience. The effect of this is that we are actively engaged in the lives of these people, evoking our natural sympathetic tendencies. Combining this deeply human drama about deception with the juxtaposition of the fiction of the stage makes Floating Weeds a complex and insightful tale about the importance of trust in matters of the heart.
Recommended for: Fans of a moving drama about the complexities of honesty in relationships, and the repercussions of failing to meet that responsibility. It is also a contemplation about how the secrets we keep in the interests of a better life for others are just an illusion we use to protect ourselves from suffering.
In their bitter argument, Komajuro reveals that Sumiko was a former prostitute, one which he "made" into an actress. To spite her lover and employer, Sumiko convinces her fellow actress, the lovely Kayo (Ayako Wakao), to seduce Kiyoshi; she makes this proposition by offering Kayo money in exchange for the service. In essence, Sumiko's attempt to spite Komajuro through Kiyoshi also puts Kayo along the same path as she was on in her youth, effectively making Kayo a kind of "prostitute". Sumiko wants Komajuro to appreciate the hypocrisy of his degradation of her character--his claims that she isn't a good enough quality of person compared to his son--because she is an actress. Sumiko is no villain, but her pain provokes her to misjudge the way she wants to teach this lesson to the man she loves--one who is too stubborn to listen, and when confronted and embarrassed, becomes violent, striking others out of frustration, unable to communicate his emotions honestly. The surprise comes when not only is Kayo highly effective in seducing the altogether awkward Kiyoshi, but that they fall in love with one another, star-crossed lovers who are forced to meet in secret. And just as Kayo has become a pupil of Sumiko's in a way, Komajuro later observes upon their elopement that Kiyoshi, like him, is a "fast operator", and that they share a good deal in common. When Kiyoshi first goes to see Kayo, he lies to Oyoshi, claiming he has to work late. Prior to this, there is no suggestion that Kiyoshi may have ever lied to his mother before. On the surface, he does so because he believes he would be "protecting her" from knowledge which might pain her, but subconsciously, he is influenced by his father and the roots of deception that have subtly taken hold. The idea of parents molding children into being the kind of people they are is a theme of Floating Weeds, where even though different generations operate among the struggling acting troupe, the behaviors of the preceding generation are mirrored at least in part by their inheritors. Oyoshi appears to be one of the more level-headed characters in the film, but even she is complicit with Komajuro's decision to keep the truth from Kiyoshi, convinced by him that it is to protect her son, but both know full well it is to keep things placid and containable, even if they conceal the truth from themselves.
The title, Floating Weeds, refers not only to the undesirable elements in a garden--like the lovely garden of flowers Oyoshi keeps--but nomads, drifting along without a home or commitments. The actors in the troupe spend all their free time either drinking sake or wishing they had a drink, complaining about how hungry they are on a beach. They may be passionate about the art of acting, but for the trio of derelict performers who distribute fliers and flirt with girls, it's more likely that they are looking for a way to avoid doing "real work". This isn't that far from the case for the old ham, Komajuro, who for all his experience is still not very skilled at his craft. It is ironic, however, that while Komajuro may not be a great actor, Ganjirō Nakamura delivers a phenomenal and nuanced performance of the travelling actor who is running out of road, an equivalent to Willy Loman from "Death of a Salesman". Similarly, the other performers in Floating Weeds are all exceptional, and we connect with them on a very personal level, largely due to the direction of Yasujirō Ozu. Ozu, well known for his contemplative "pillow shots" (best represented by Oyoshi's flowers in Floating Weeds), keeps the camera often at an intimate, eye-to-eye level with his characters, who are framed when they speak as though they were speaking to the audience. The effect of this is that we are actively engaged in the lives of these people, evoking our natural sympathetic tendencies. Combining this deeply human drama about deception with the juxtaposition of the fiction of the stage makes Floating Weeds a complex and insightful tale about the importance of trust in matters of the heart.
Recommended for: Fans of a moving drama about the complexities of honesty in relationships, and the repercussions of failing to meet that responsibility. It is also a contemplation about how the secrets we keep in the interests of a better life for others are just an illusion we use to protect ourselves from suffering.